I Hate You (Dean POV)
by Vicky Strife
Summary: Dean tells an absent Castiel everything he's never said before. Ficlet. Set in season 10 but no spoilers.


Hello, you ! The fanmade song "**Hey There Castiel**" inspired me this ficlet, as well as "**Not In That Way**" by **Sam Smith**. I would advise you to watch keepcalmanddonotblink's beautiful Destiel fanvideo on YT, in which this last song was used ! However, grab some tissue.

This is a Dean's POV ficlet, because I've never written one before, at least not officially and also because I can relate to him; we are alike on some points and also because, ages ago, I felt attracted to a person of the same gender as me, so I can imagine what he may be feeling.

Here you are. Sorry for the angst :/

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><p>I hate you, Cass.<p>

I hate you like I hated Dr. Sexy, like I hated freakin' Garth, like I hated LARPing, even like I hated those goddamn musicals; by bias.

I hate you, but not like I hate me.

Things change. What we don't even consider hit us over the head, one day.

Angels exist and they are dicks. Monsters exist but they are not _all_ dicks.

And others things don't. They only come up to the surface like bubbles of gaz in a bottle of beer.

I hate you, but not as much as I hate myself. When I look at myself in the mirror, I can see how _weak_ I am and it makes me sick. I hate my wrinkles-free face whereas deep inside, I feel as decrepit as the wallpapers of the pitiful motels I spend half of my life in. It's just one more lie; I'm a pile of lies, only holding up together because of their intrication.

My name is Dean Winchester. I'm a hunter. I'm a warrior.

Whose biggest battle is in my own head. Because it's a mess in there, Cass, and it's your fault.

Everything was so clear before you. Things were black or white. No inbetweens. But since you're here, they're all gray and the only colour I see is the blue of your eyes. That way too vivid blue which has always destabilized me.

I hate you because I've never been the one for praying, before you.

And yet I am right now. I have prayed more in 6 years than a fuckin' priest during his whole life of celibacy. You ignored me so many times, Cass... I know you can hear me, though, I _feel_ it. I don't know how but I _know_ when you hear me.

And it hurts more because I have the certainty that you're _willingly_ ignoring me.

I'm pityful, huh ? That's why you're not comin'. You're sick of hearin' me whining. So why do you always come back when I've finally managed to stop calling you ? You're a sadistic bastard, for an angel. You show up and _boom_, the wall I had built collapses, blown down by the flapping of your wings.

What was I talking about ?... Oh yeah. Since you're here, nothing is the same anymore. I thought I knew myself, knew what I wanted.

What attracted me.

My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and frisky women.

But sometimes when you get too close to me, there're those freakin' butterflies in my stomach and that lump in my throat. There're your eyes, your lips, but no air.

And I _disgust_ myself for desiring you, you who are so innocent, so naive.

So oblivious about what I feel.

Sam knows, I'm pretty sure. He's been insisting; he's been asking me why I pray to you, what happened in the crypt and I betrayed myself, the words "feelings" slipped out of my mouth. I've been as surprised as him. I'd better have choked on them.

Because I'm _scared_, Cass. If that's... love, I don't want it. 'Cause it hurts too much, you understand ? You surely don't. Hell, I don't even know if you've got what it takes to feel anything.

I'm terrified because I don't know how to kill them, those damn feelings; I'm powerless head-on a monster for the first time in my life.

And that makes me mad, because I'm strong, _I've gotta be strong_ !

I should be so many things. The pile of lies I am is also made of New-Year-like resolutions I've never kept.

Included the things my father wanted me to be. Unfortunately for him, he got the most miserable, the _faultiest_ son God ever made.

The paradox on legs, that loves what he hates and becomes what he hates without being able to love himself. I bet you didn't know I had this vocabulary, did you ? I sometimes read, you know.

Sometimes I even fall lower; I find myself hoping that deep down, you feel the same. The way you look at me, smile at me. My heart swells and it could burst just by the idea of it. So I remind myself that nobody would ever want me, that I'm poison, and it goes away.

That pain I can suffer, I know it.

The truth is, I love you Castiel. I love you more than Baby, more than pies - even apple ones -, more than Led Zepplin and extra-bacon burgers.

But I'll never tell you. In the most desperate situations, I will only tell you "I need you" because it's more true, more real than "I love you"; these words have lost their meaning by being repeated at all-will, they're as worn out as my jeans. Besides, with them you can't lie, you can't lower their meaning to another one.

But above all, I'll never tell you, 'cause if you answered "I'm sorry, I love you, but not in that way", I'd rather be back in Hell.

And that time, no point in saving me.

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><p><strong>If you have read this in Dean's voice, I would assume I have succeeded^^ As usual, English is not my mother tongue so if you've found any mistake, let me know, thank you.<strong>


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